Showing posts with label prayer. Show all posts
Showing posts with label prayer. Show all posts

Thursday

Testimony: God the Electrician

Some of the lights in the living room stopped working suddenly. Testing showed they had no power to them. No circuit breakers were tripped. No wiring had changed in the past several months. And they didn't know an electrician they could call on for help.

So they prayed. She heard the phrase, junction box. He saw a picture of a junction box in a particular place on the attic floor.

Sounds like a clue, he thought. So he crawled up into the attic, flashlight in the hand, looking for the junction box on the floor that he saw as he was praying.

But there was no junction box on the floor, and no junction box that looked like what he saw in prayer. But there was a different junction box on a post nearby, and it did what the junction box in his vision look like it would have done.

So he fiddled with some of the wires, jiggling them carefully, and when he did a light in the attic flickered on. Aha! A clue.

So he fixed the loose wire nut, made sure it was tight, and headed back downstairs.

Sure enough, everything was working fine now.

Lessons learned:

1. God is a pretty good electrician (although this is much less voltage than he usually works with).

2. He is willing to help homeowners with electrical problems in their homes.

3. Spiritual gifts are useful for practical matters, too.

4. A word of knowledge may be correct in its content, but incorrect in some of the details.

My Prayers Have Changed

My prayers have changed. I feel the need to reflect on those changes.
I guess that's pretty normal, for us to pray differently over time. I suppose that's maybe an indication of maturity: as we grow up in the kingdom, our prayers shift to reflect kingdom values more.


So I think to myself, "How are my prayers changing?"

• The first way I observe my prayers changing, and this one has been going on for a while now, is that I find myself asking the question, "How shall I pray?" or "What's on Father's heart for this [person or situation]?" and I try to say what I hear my Father saying in my prayers.

And I figure that's good practice for hearing his heart in general. Practice is good.


• The second change that's caught my attention is when I think I know how to pray for someone or some situation. Over time, I came to the point where I had to conclude that sometimes my prayers were more "against" them than "for them."

I used to pray against the bad things that bad people were doing, or the bad decisions people were making, or the bad influences in their lives. And yeah, those were things that need to be stopped.

But I observe some things:

a) I'm not the one to stop them (that's actually way above my pay grade!), and

b) by focusing on the bad things, I found myself influenced some by the bad things and

c) I began to wonder, if my words have power (and I believe they do), then was my speaking (even speaking to God) about bad things working to strengthen the bad things.

• So I focus my attention pretty intently on finding things and people and influences and choices to pray for, rather than things to pray against.

- Instead of praying against abortion, I pray for women to value their babies, for men to value women and babies, for courts and legislatures to choose life.

- Instead of praying against the evil that a bad person is doing, I might pray that he or she would remember the faith they had as a child, or that they would find value (possibly even financial value) in a better choice.

- When people do things that hurt me (emotionally, financially, relationally, whatever), instead of praying against those choices, those actions, I may pray for their heart to be healed, or for their own needs to be met, or for them to see the effects of what they're choosing.

• As I pray for people, I find myself more aware of Father's heart for them in a number of ways, but one of the more consistent ways is being aware of the tremendous gift of free will that he has given to them. I regularly feel the need to respect — even guard — their free will, that same free will that they're using for stealing, killing & destruction.

Said another way, I don't feel the freedom (perhaps better, "I no longer feel the freedom") to overrule their will with my own.

After all, if God honors their free will, their choices (even the evil ones), maybe I ought to as well.

• As a result of these changes, there's another change going on. I find that a larger portion of my prayers are working on aligning my heart in prayer with my Father's heart.

I don't know if this one will be permanent or temporary, but I observe that habits are challenging to break, and I seem to have developed some lousy habits in prayer: self-willed, short-sighted, self-centered.

Hmm. This reveals that I have been thinking about Ephesians 5:26 in a way that is different than how my pastors always taught it. I observe that I make room for Father to "[cleanse me] by the washing with water through the word, to present [me] to himself... Without stain or wrinkle, or any other blemish."

I didn't actually realize I was thinking in these terms. But I can go with that.

So those are some of the ways that I've become aware that my prayers have been changing. And I think find myself with my prayers being answered a little more often, or a little more visibly. And there’s clearly more life found in the process, at least as I’m experiencing it.

When I see changes going on with me, I try to look at the changes, and determine if I approve of them, to make a conscious decision about whether I will permit that change in my life or not. (I'm aware that I make a lot of changes by default; I'm trying to counter that.)

These are decisions that I think I might want to keep, that I might want to nourish and encourage to grow.


Walking Into Inheritance

 Each of my children in turn has brought someone home to meet the family. In every case, they were wonderful people. In every case it was an interesting experience; I experienced something of a time warp. 

You see, I’ve been praying for my kids since I first learned that we were pregnant. Part of that – me being the responsible dad and all – included praying for their future spouses. 

So when my kids brought their intended home to meet the parents, several things happened. We celebrated, of course, we blessed the relationship, we continued developing our friendship with them, all the usual. 

But I also recognized that with that announcement that they wanted to marry my son or daughter, they were also stepping into decades of prayer for themselves. Kind of a time warp. Science fiction becomes real. It’s pretty cool, actually. 

It has been interesting, even exciting, to see how these good people are walking in the things I’ve prayed for them since before they or their spouse were even born. And of course, my prayers for them continue these days, but now I have the advantage of knowing who I’m praying for. 

Since then, my kids have been having kids of their own, so now there are grand kids to include in the prayers. I love declaring destiny, generally destiny I hear Father whispering, destiny I see in the Book, or even destiny I see forming in their skills, interests, passions. 

I’ve been enjoying praying for these wonderful humans who share a quarter of  my DNA quite as much as I enjoy lifting up their parents who share a larger share of my DNA. (I find these to be curious thoughts.)

The other day, I was out walking with Father, praying for my heirs and descendants, when I realized that I didn’t need to know exactly whom I was praying for any more than I did when I prayed for my little toddlers’ future spouses. 

So I kept going, speaking life to my great-grandchildren, and their children, my offspring whom I might never meet. Blew my mind a little bit. And then it set me into my place in history, in the grand scheme of goodness that God is in the midst of. 

And yeah, it’s a little like a science fiction time warp. But it turns out that it’s real. And in reality, there’s no reason that any of my (or your) prayers should ever have an expiration date. And if my prayers never expire, then I maybe ought to target those prayers in light of things (and family) to come. 

So as I prayed for every one of my grandchildren’s children, and about their children. Occasionally I would get a glimpse of an individual destiny in the uncertain fog of the future. That always gives me more focus for that (potential) individual. 

(By the way, this isn’t limited to my biological progeny. There are a few individuals who have adopted themselves into a relationship with my family. They get prayed for, too!)

Things get complicated quickly. The average Christian family today has 2.7 kids, I am told. That means  that in a few generations, I might be praying for dozens, maybe even hundreds of of descendants. That’s a bunch of people that I’ve never met (and might never meet), but who will eventually count me among their grandcestors. My blood (or a little of it) will flow in their veins, my DNA (or a little of it) shapes how they will be crafted, my history with God (or a little of it) cut the path that they will walk. 

I confess, it’s a little bit overwhelming. (And then I consider, what must it be like for God, the Father of Life? No, that’s too much; I can’t go there right now!) 

I try to approach prayer like I’m trying to approach most everything in my world: I pray for the people and destinies that I feel like Father is drawing my attention to. (My big brother said it this way: “I speak just what the Father has taught me.” I like his example.) 

So I’m just writing to explore the incursion of time warps into my prayer life, to help to make sense of this path that I’ve been walking with my Father for a while now. 

If this is helpful to you, feel free to step on this path with yourself, and discover what kind of time warps he has available for you and for your legacy. 

Whose Answer to Prayer?

For some time, I’ve been praying some pretty significant prayers about somebody close to me.

There were some changes that I thought would be healthy for him to make in his life, but I very much did not feel the freedom to talk to him about them.

So I went over his head, and talked to his Father.

(It’s probably appropriate to point out that part of my prayers were for healthy changes in his life, but the larger portion were about getting my will out of the way. I sometimes find it a challenge to pray for people’s choices in a way that still respects their free will for their lives ahead of my own will for their lives. And the more I care for them, the bigger that obstacle is for me. Sigh.)

Last week, my friend asked me to go for a walk with him, and as we started, he said he had something to talk about, and he did not want my advice or counsel. (I interpreted that as, “This is pretty serious for him!”)

Then he explained how he had come to some conclusions and abruptly made several of the changes that I’d been praying for. I barely kept from jumping and dancing around him, so happy I was about him. 

We walked for several miles while he vented and I listened. I asked a couple of questions, but otherwise didn’t hardly say anything: this wasn’t about me; it’s about him. Toward the last mile, we discussed some of his goals for how to walk out these changes, and how I could support him and his changes.

I spent several days rejoicing.

A few days later, as I was talking with Jesus about my friend, supporting his changes in prayer. 

And then I recognized something kind of dangerous in my thinking. I was praying for my friend’s success in the area of these changes, when God quietly uncovered some things in my heart. I was seeing this as about me: these were my prayers that were answered, and I felt a responsibility to reinforce the answers in continued prayer.

I became aware that yes, my prayers had some not-insignificant effect here (He never tells me how much), but this isn’t my victory. This is God’s victory that He s sharing (and working through) with His son, my friend. This is not about me.

I’m still invited to pray for my friend’s victory, but I’m not invited to take ownership of the change, to take responsibility for his continued success.


Visible Answers to Prayer

This was an interesting line of thinking. Let me know what you think of it.

I was reflecting about prayer. I pray for a lot of things. But I don't see the changes, the effects of my prayers, as much as maybe I would like.

Part of that reason, no doubt, is because I pray for less-concrete things, and for people that are a long ways away. But for whatever reason, I was thinking about it, wishing that I was seeing more results, at least more visible results, from my prayers.

And since Jesus is my standard, I was thinking about him. He sure saw visible answers to his prayers in the stories the Gospels told, didn't he? I’m not trying to get big headed about it or something, but if Jesus gets to see the answers to his prayers so comfortably so quickly so easily, what's wrong with me wanting to see visible answers to my prayers quickly, easily?

So just thinking on that for a while (technically, that’s called “meditating”). I realized that the excuses I was given as a curious child had some truth in them: we don't actually see every single event that Jesus was involved in. It is maybe just a little bit presumptive to assume that every single prayer of his was answered quickly, visibly, dramatically.

So I consider that. And I realized, yep, it’s an excuse all right. It's an excuse for people who don't see miracles, maybe. Maybe it's an excuse for people who are tired of trying, or who never really tried hard in the first place. Or something. It’s a way of justifying not expecting to walk in the things we see Jesus, our example, walk in.

But the reality is that every single time that we see Jesus praying, we see dramatic, visible answers. We don't ever see his prayers unanswered. (Yes, there are some times that he prays that we don't know what he's praying for, so we can't tell whether those were answered or not. That’s not our issue today.)

So I was asking father if this desire to see visible answers quickly is appropriate, if this is a good thing to ask for.

Immediately, Romans 14:23b came to mind. “Anything not of faith is sin.”

When I'm asking a question and something pops in my head like that, I tend to assume that it is related, that it’s something of an answer. And I also try not to jump to conclusions, so I reflected: I thought about it some more.

And I realized something.

If I need visible answers to my prayers in order to pray with faith, in order to have confidence that father is hearing me and doing things, then that's not faith. If I need to see, then I'm basing my prayers, my life, on sight, not on faith.

Oops. There’s my answer.

Jesus got to see immediate answers to his prayers. That does not mean that his prayer life was based on what he saw. We know from the gospel stories that he took a fair bit of time alone with God, often in the wee hours.

I have had times where I knew the answer was coming before I encountered the situation. I’ve had many times when I knew what I was supposed to pray beforehand.

That certainly fits the facts as we know them: Jesus saw the answers in the spirit, by faith, when he was talking to Dad in the morning. When he encountered the situation during the day, his response was based on his encounters with father in the wee hours, not on what he saw in that circumstance.

So even though he saw the answers as he prayed, his prayers were not built on the foundation of what he saw. His prayers were on the foundation of his time with Father in the morning. He was walking by faith, not by sight, even though he could see.

The thought drifted across my mind, “If you always get to see the immediate answers to your prayers, would you be walking by faith? Or would you be walking by what you see?”

And as translated by Romans 14:23, that question is would I be walking by faith? Or would I be walking in sin?

So I am considering the idea that I need to be more intentional about seeing the answers that I am praying for in the spirit, in my private times with Father, before I look for them in public.

And maybe I need to guard my wishes. It appears that I might have been wishing for an easy way to walk in sin. No wonder Father doesn't want to answer that prayer.

So how do you see it? 

Pray For Them, Not Against Them

I was at a big Christian worship-and-prayer festival at my state’s capitol campus. It was actually pretty good.

I should mention that my state politicians who work in that capitol building have demonstrated that they value politically-correct social whims over the well-being of the state. It’s pretty messed up. Yeah, they need prayer.

In fact, I really appreciated the corporate prayer for my state! If we’re going to change for the better, the change will be built on a foundation of prayer. I treasure that.

So I was surprised when I realized I was uncomfortable with the prayers that afternoon. They weren’t bad prayers; they were about “Stop abortion,” stop this bad thing or that bad thing. And those are things that need to stop.

But something wasn’t settling right in my spirit for the moment. I couldn’t have told you why.

Across the lawn, there was a counter-protest going on in reaction against this good gathering. A small group of satanists showed up in protest of the Christian event, offering to “un-baptize” people while they occasionally shouted “Hail satan!” at the worshipping crowd. They caught my attention.

There was a park bench near the counter-protest. The state had put up a pretty big barrier between the two groups, so I had to walk the long way around to get there. And I sat on that bench and visited with Father, just to watch what was going on, mostly.

The satanists were sure angry. Well, some of them were. Some appeared to be high, and they looked like they might be there just for the party. It seemed that there was a deep sadness among them. In particular, the angry ones caught my attention. So I watched and listened.

Thousands of Christians, just beyond that fence, were ignoring the satanists, were worshipping their God, praying against some of the things that these people valued. I could see why they were angry, why they were protesting.

I reflected that a lot of times when I visit with atheists, the god they don’t believe in is also a god I don’t believe in: capricious, judgmental, distant, self-centered. I figure that this might be part of why the satanists are angry at the Christian gathering (and the Christian God): because they see them the same way: capricious, judgmental, distant, self-centered.

That isn’t who I know God to be, and it isn’t what these people were like when I walked among them earlier, but I can understand the concern. I’ve been around enough to get an idea of where they got those untrue ideas. I could see why they might be angry.

Yeah, if I saw things that way, I might not want to celebrate those values either. As I began to understand a little bit of what might be their concerns, I began to feel compassion for them. So I talked with Father about them (in more religious vocabulary, I began to pray for them). And I learned some things.

As Father & I talked, I became aware that I was praying for them in much different ways than the prayer & worship gathering was. While the gathering was praying much for our state and our politicians and our people, the thought that came to my mind was that these people had had enough people praying against them. What they really needed was somebody to pray for them!

So I tried to turn that corner. I’ll be honest, it was a difficult turn. I’ve had decades of experience seeing “the enemies of God” as issues, as values, not as people, certainly not as individuals. I needed help to see these people as individuals, and if I was able to, to see them as individuals that Jesus died for, that Father weeps for, that Holy Spirit is drawing to himself.

Gradually, I began to see them less as “angry satanists,” and more as lost sheep, whom the shepherd was searching for.

That changed my prayers, I can tell you.

I prayed for individuals, that big angry guy with the demonic imagery on his black vest, that servant-hearted woman who needed more clothes on, that bouncy woman (?) with pink hair down to her knees.

I began to pray for peace, specific peace: that they would ind what they were looking for, even if they didn’t know they were looking. I prayed for success in their jobs, in their schooling, in their relationships.

I could go on. Actually, I did. For kind of a while.

I understand that hell is busy these days, and the political realm is one of his favorite places to wreak “stealing, killing, destroying,” and he’s having a measure of success. I understand that Father is still seeking saints who will “stand in the gap before me for the land;” I know a number of good people paying the price for that important work. I’m thankful for them.

At the end of it all, I am feeling a need to pray for people more than praying against them. At least, that’s what I’m feeling this week.


Praying to Stop an Untrustworthy Person

I was praying recently about a man who has shown himself to be untrustworthy and whose efforts to control the world around him have caused a lot of harm to a lot of people. It could have been any of a number of folks, I suppose.

“Father, stop him!” I prayed, and as soon as I said it, I knew I’d missed his heart.


Two things came quickly into my mind:

• The principle I’ve held for a few years that it’s easier to pray for the storm to change its path than to stop it altogether,

• The image of a man on his way to Damascus to persecute Christians getting knocked off his ass and turned from a persecutor into a preacher. “I didn’t stop him,” Father whispered.

And I realized that I need to change my prayer from “Stop him!” to “Change his path,” and even “Redeem him.”

As I considered this some more, it occurred to me that my Father is awfully good at redeeming irredeemable people, and bringing good through them who formerly brought evil.

I realized, not for the first time, that when I pray against people that Jesus died for, I’m doing it alone, not with my Father; that a much wiser path is to pray for the people and for their redemption.

I have permission to pray against their work if it’s hurting folks, but I have his presence and even his partnership as I pray for their redemption.


Addiction of the Saints

It's been chewing on me for a while, now. Not sure why, but it's sure been good motivation for prayer.

I've had my attention drawn to the fact that the American church system (and possibly most of the church in western civilization) has an addiction problem. 

More specifically, I see two addiction problems.

First, I find myself seeing that the average church-goer is pretty seriously addicted to the church feeding them spiritually, wiping their noses, changing their stinky diapers; not really taking responsibility for themselves, and not really able to stand as a believer without the church and its staff and its programs propping them up.

Second, I find myself aware that - whether intentionally or unintentionally (and both are present) - the institution and leaders of the western church are encouraging and sustaining that addiction.

Sure, it's the addicts' tithes and offerings that fund the buildings, programs and salaries. But the attentive, occasionally adoring congregations are fueling leaders' insecurities and need for recognition and significance as well.

It's at this point that I see visions of Christians wanting to take responsibility for their own lives trying to leave, and running into high barriers and guards with dogs coming after them.

Like I said, this sense has been in my face for a while, and it's come out of the blue. This is leading me to ponder, to pray, and so press into Papa on behalf of the Bride.

Prayer Isn't Enough


I’ve been hearing an awkward phrase for a while now.

“Prayer is not enough.” I think I’m hearing it from God. “Declaration is not enough.”

This morning, he went on:

• If you sit around the house all day eating bonbons, praying for weight loss, do you think I’ll believe you?

• If you pray for finances, but don’t go looking for a job, shall I take you seriously?

• If you pray for godly leaders, but don’t expend the effort to research and vote, do you really mean what you’re praying?

• If you fill your mind with the ravings of the fearful, then ask me for peace in your soul, I will question your sincerity.

• I could think of a thousand other illustrations.

The thought was, “If you don’t take your prayers seriously, why should I?”

Nepal and Baltimore: When Prayer Isn’t Enough – The HaystackIt seems that God is more interested in invested partners, in full heirs in the kingdom, than in needy, dependent toddlers.

If we’re heirs in the Kingdom of God, then we’re participants in the exercise of the rule of the Kingdom. He wants to work with us, not against. He is more willing to work with us than against us.

Our words have power, yes. But our actions are also powerful. Best to have them working together.

For a long time, we thought our words were powerless but we’re learning better now. It appears that we’re swinging too far in the direction of relying on our words.

That’s a truth, but it’s not the only truth. If we want to live as mature sons and daughters, we need to know more than just one truth.

The saying is, “Prayer works,” and it’s true. But it goes both ways. Prayer accomplishes things.  But prayer sometimes has work to do. Not instead of prayer; in addition to prayer. As part of the prayer.

We’ve got a job to do.

-----

“What do you think? There was a man who had two sons. He went to the first and said, ‘Son, go and work today in the vineyard.’ “
‘I will not,’ he answered, but later he changed his mind and went. “Then the father went to the other son and said the same thing.
He answered, ‘I will, sir,’ but he did not go.
“Which of the two did what his father wanted?” “The first,” they answered.
Jesus said to them, “Truly I tell you, the tax collectors and the prostitutes are entering the kingdom of God ahead of you. - Matthew 21:28-31


Rethinking What God Drawing Us Actually Means


I’ve been looking at how the Bible uses the Greek word, ἕλκω, helkō. It’s an interesting word. Fundamentally, it’s about “to draw by inward power, lead, impel.”

Here is the word in use:

• He said, “Throw your net on the right side of the boat and you will find some.” When they did, they were unable to *haul* the net in because of the large number of fish. [John 21:6]

• When her owners realized that their hope of making money was gone, they seized Paul and Silas and *dragged* them into the marketplace to face the authorities. [Acts 16:19]

• The whole city was aroused, and the people came running from all directions. Seizing Paul, they *dragged* him from the temple, and immediately the gates were shut. [Acts 21:30]

• But you have dishonored the poor. Is it not the rich who are exploiting you? Are they not the ones who are *dragging* you into court? [James 1:6]

• Then Simon Peter, who had a sword, *drew* it and struck the high priest’s servant, cutting off his right ear. [John 18:10a]

Pretty forceful word, isn’t it?

Think about these examples, the force that’s involved. These are all involving a fair bit of force,
aren’t they? Yanking people or things from where they were to someplace else, without their participation. Interesting. . .

Think about who is wielding the power in these sentences; who’s making things happen here?

Now buckle your seat belt. Let me draw your attention to the ONLY other verses that use this same word that’s used for “haul” and “dragged” above:

• “And I, when I am lifted up from the earth, will *draw* all people to myself.” [John 12:32]

• “No one can come to me unless the Father who sent me *draws* them, and I will raise them up at the last day.” [John 6:44]

I’ve always looked at this statement as if Jesus were talking about gently wooing folks, like warm and fuzzy marketing campaign, or like a young mother with a toddler. “Come on, all people, you can do this! Here we go! Upsy daisy!”

But that’s not the word used here. The word used here is a forceful word. It’s the word that is used in every other situation to describe yanking people or things from where they were to someplace else, without their participation, without asking their permission.

I’ve always been a huge supporter of the idea of free will: God gave us a mighty gift when he gave us free will. But these statements remind me of how powerful God’s pursuit of us is.

I think this might change how I pray some. I might be asking Father to helkō some folks, rather than just gently persuading them.


Saturday

Testimony: The Covid “Vaccine”

A Little background:

 
• The Covid 19 virus is a real virus. People are dying from it.

• But the virus is being blown way the heck out of proportion, and most of the deaths attributed to Covid are actually people who had the virus dying from something else. (CDC has acknowledged it..)

• A fair number of people are scared silly of the virus. (This is not a time for judging.)

• There are a few vaccines for the virus. Except that they’re not vaccines, they’re “experimental therapies.”

• A fair number of people are scared silly of the vaccines/experimental therapies. (This is not a time for judging.)

• The federal government and a good number of state and local governments are working overtime to convince us that we need to get the vaccines/experimental therapies. (Ironically, as I’m writing this, I’m getting text and email notifications working to persuade me to get the treatment.)

• The attempts to manipulate/convince the public are primarily based on either bribes or threats; they are mostly not based on logic, research, or science.

• It’s pretty well documented that the medical community has opportunity to make a lot of money from the government for promoting the Covid “vaccine,” for treating Covid symptoms, for reporting Covid deaths. (NB: It’s my policy to place a lower value on the opinions of people who are being well paid to have and to convince me those opinions.)

• A fair number of people are scared silly of the government’s intentions. (This is not a time for judging.)

• The Bible is pretty clear: we don’t actually have reason to be afraid, and in fact we are commanded to not fear.

• A fair number of people are afraid to trust God when our health, our life or our government is on the line. (This is not a time for judging.)

OK. That’s the background. (Note that I’m not interested in arguing about these points. If you feel that urge to fuss about these, go somewhere else to do it.)

TESTIMONY. This is my own story; fair warning: it might be long and rambling.

I’m a fairly strong, fairly healthy adult male with a solid immune system. I’m not actually afraid of the virus. I’ve walked with Jesus long enough to know that he’s serious about his ability to take care of me, and I know that it’s true that “whether I live or I die, I am the Lord’s.”


I’ve heard first hand reports from medical professionals, from people who have taken the vaccine; I’ve read the manufacturers’ statements about them (and their disclaimers of any liability for their product).


Based on what I’ve read (and I’ve read the original CDC & other reports, not just the news reports about them), I don’t see any reason why I personally need to take the vaccine/experimental therapy that they’re so aggressively promoting. I don’t judge those who take it, but I am comfortable concluding that it’s not for me.

But there are people around me who are scared of the virus, some more than others, of course. Many of these are MY people, people I would die for, people who would die for me: people I love.

These people are scared for me, and they believe they have reason. They consider me higher risk for more than one reason, and the reports agree with them. Some of these people trust the vaccine/experimental therapy, and they want me to “protect myself” and take it. Some of them want me to take it as protection for themselves. (This is not a time for judging.)

So this put me in a tough place. I was confident that I didn’t need the vaccine/experimental therapy, and that in fact, I would be wise to avoid it.

But people who love me were paying a price for my choice. That wasn’t comfortable for me. There were people, people I love and whom I love to be around, that weren’t comfortable being around me. That’s not comfortable for me.

That’s been a hard place. And when I find myself in hard places like that, I try to remember to take these to my Father, so I brought this awkward, confusing, emotionally-charged mess that was in my heart to him. He listened quietly for a while (or at least I assumed he was listening, but he sure was quiet). I poured out my concerns and confusions to him. I wasn’t OK with this divided heart thing going on.

We spent a while here, days, maybe weeks, not minutes or hours. But eventually, his peace did what it does, and it settled my thoughts and emotions and drew my attention back to my Father’s goodness where it belongs.

And in that process, he drew my attention to Mark’s version of the Great Commission, and to one clause in particular: “If they drink anything deadly, it will by no means hurt them.” He wasn’t giving me a direction in the midst of the options, he was just reminding me: “This is the way I am with you, Son.”

As I kept praying (I cannot tell you how many times I’ve stopped listening too early!), I felt his affirmation that I could trust him, I could trust this promise, whichever way I chose to go, but this was my choice to make; he wasn’t going to make my choices for me here.

I still believe that this virus isn’t a threat for me personally, and I still believe that I don’t need the experimental therapy that’s being promoted.

So I signed up to get the experimental therapy, confident that it will by no means hurt me. That was long enough ago that I had to work really hard to get it; it was really awkward, really uncomfortable, really irritating to jump through all the hoops. (The notifications I’m getting now announce that some places have it available for walk-ins.)

After several weeks, I made it to the front of the line and it was my turn. They had me sign a raft of papers (and were really confused when I insisted on reading what I was signing), and the nurse who gave me the injection confessed that he didn’t believe we needed “a ‘vaccine’ that is 95% effective against a disease with a 99+% survival rate.” We laughed about it together.

When it came time for the second injection, people crawled out of the woodwork to tell me their horror stories of how bad the second one was, and how dangerous it was, and how that’s where people got sick from the second one. Thanks folks!

So I reminded myself pretty aggressively of Father’s promise. “If they drink anything deadly, it will by no means hurt them.” My version went this way: “If I am injected with anything deadly, it will by no means hurt me.” It was kind of hard work to agree with him instead of all the fear-driven testimonies.

The next morning, I woke up feeling “off,” and the doubts whispered into my ear: “See! I told you you’d get sick! Now it’s happened to you!”

So I had a conversation with my soul. “If I am injected with anything deadly, it will by no means hurt me.” I kind of had a shouting match inside my soul for a while, but eventually my soul gave in, the symptoms vanished, and I had a great day. That was a month or two ago, and I haven’t been sick for a day since.

I still shake my head (sometimes when my soul gets out of line) at how much this changes the hearts and the choices of some of the people I love, but then I remember, “I did this for you, because I love you.” I can’t generally tell them that, of course, because they think I was convinced of their opinions when I saw the error of my ways because of their insightful presentation of the media’s hysteria.

And I feel my Father’s comfortable pleasure with my choices here. It was my choice, your choice might be completely different. But this is how I dealt with it.

I hope my story is helpful to you.

Friday

Sometimes we fire blanks.

Sometimes we fire blanks.

Oh, we don't mean to. We think we are firing powerful weapons of war, kicking ass and taking names.

But sometimes, sometimes we're actually firing blanks.

Jesus modeled for us a way to pray that was more about telling the situation how it needs to be, rather than about us whining at God to pleeeeease make it be that way. We are learning to command, to declare, rather than to ask politely. Or impolitely.

That much is good.

The problem is, so often we just fire blanks.

We read the Gospels oh, and we observe how Jesus did it. He said, Lazarus come forth! And Lazarus came forth. He said, I am willing, be cleansed. And the leper was instantly healed.

We look at the model of Jesus, and we make it our model. But we are only looking at part of the model that Jesus gave us. We're looking at his Harvest, not his labor.

I am a member of a few prayer groups. I am embarrassed to tell you how many times, in response to a really dire need, somebody pipes up, blithely commanding all demons to go to hell, smugly decreeing bones and skin and organs to line up, happily commanding this and that, and wrapping it all up with a grin of self-congratulation.

And of course very little actually changes. Nobody really expected it would. I think even that the enthusiastic intercessor himself didn't expect it. And why would he? We get so that we’re commanding everything nowadays, and nobody points out that it's not really changing much of anything. The emperor has no clothes on, but everyone is afraid to mention it.

Yeah, I know. I’ve overstated it in order to make a point. You know this goes on, at least some of the time.

I have been reflecting on how much of Jesus’ life is hidden from the casual reader of his biographies in the Gospels. I suspect that this is on purpose. If we really want to know the secrets, he wants to go find them for ourselves, to do the work of learning, to make the knowledge our own.

The gospels are quick to tell his hero testimonies, how he healed this person, raised that guy from the dead, all before lunch, and without raising a sweat.

That's the part that big, flashy, and easily captures our attention. But it's only the end of the story. We miss the beginning and the middle. And I think that if we don't follow all of Jesus’ example, the beginning, the middle, and the end, we will probably not have the results that Jesus had.

I have been involved in a lot of spiritual war. I have friends who have been in so much more than I have. Some of it has been successful; some has been less successful. Ultimately, I think that Winston Churchill may have had it right. War involves blood, sweat, toil, tears. And healing the sick, raising the dead, these are acts of War. It’s not a quick declaration of victory and move on.

I've been thinking about the topic of rest recently. God is constantly inviting his people to a place of rest. Not a place of doing nothing, a place of doing much, but doing it from the place of resting in him. Kind of a foreign concept to most of us, I think. But it wasn't foreign to Jesus. Jesus seemed pretty big on working from a place of rest. I’m beginning to learn the value of this.

And Jesus was always getting away with Father. Sure, we have our “quiet times,” and that’s a great starting point, but it seemed that Jesus spent all night in prayer sometimes. All night, getting to know what Father was doing and thinking.

In fact, there was one time he spent much of the night in prayer, and it was hard work. He sweat blood. We talk about that in the context of the Easter story, but as he said, “I have set you an example that you should do as I have done for you.” Paul kept up the theme. “These things happened to them as examples and were written down as warnings for us, on whom the culmination of the ages has come.”

I’m not saying that blood is the signifier of a solid prayer life. I’m saying there’s work involved, hard work, if we’re aspiring to declare with the kind of power that Jesus’ declarations had.

There is one more secret, I think, that we need to lay hold of. In John 5, Jesus revealed this secret: “Very truly I tell you, the Son can do nothing by himself; he can do only what he sees his Father doing, because whatever the Father does the Son also does.”

The last secret (for this moment) of Jesus’ amazing record was that he was only doing what he saw Father doing.

A whole lot of our failing comes from our making our declarations about things that are in our heart and mind that are not actually things that Father is doing. They may be things that we wish he was doing, things that we think he might want to do, or things that we ourselves want, and we’re maybe just putting God’s name on them.

That’s a whole lot different than seeing what God is doing, or seeing the situation - really seeing it! - in its completed state, and then telling reality to line up with that vision.

This is a hard one to ‘fess up to. But we kind of have to separate our desires from his, separate soul from spirit, as it were, in order to walk how Jesus walked.

I’m so thankful that we’re growing up into Him. We’re going to change the world. In him.

Thursday

Learning to Pray Wisely


The church is learning a lot about declarative prayer in recent years, prayer that issues decrees and declares what shall be, (as differentiated from prayer that begs and sometimes whines).

Like anything that we are just beginning to learn, we’re not terribly good at it yet.

 We have (many of us) figured out that Jesus didn’t generally ask God for stuff when he prayed. He generally commanded something to happen (John 11:43) or decreed the result that he wanted (Matthew 9:29). Even at his most extreme circumstances, his prayers were declarative sentences, not interrogative ones (Matthew. 26:36–46). 

 As a community, we’ve begun declaring and commanding pretty much all the time. It’s baby steps, and it’s really cute. (Don’t get me wrong: I’m part of this community of baby steps, too!)

 I’ve been reflecting on this transition recently. It’s being a good thing, for a bunch of reasons that I’ve discerned:

 • We’re beginning to take responsibility ourselves for the things that he’s given us responsibility for (see Genesis 1:26). Much of what we pray about is actually our responsibility, not his.

•Slaves ask or plead. Sons, heirs, might ask, but they surely expect  (consider Romans 15:13 or 16:20); or they may not ask, they just take what they need and go.

You and I, we’re not slaves, not servants.

• It appears that while God respects servants who ask, more seems to get done by sons who declare.

 On the other hand, when sons are young, they require more parenting than they do when they mature. Dirty diapers are no more fun in the Spirit than they are in the natural. They’re normal, even healthy for a while. They’re still a mess, and no more than a starting place. But they’re a normal, healthy mess for an infant.

For example, I’m part of some prayer groups (side note: please do NOT add me to more groups!), where folks post their prayer requests, and the community prays for them. You learn a lot from groups like this. Here are some things I've learned.

There are a bunch of folks whose prayer requests are more a list of what all is wrong in their lives than a description of what we’re actually praying for. Some of those diapers need changing desperately.

Some responses are in the “Oh Jesus, please help ‘em!” category.

A growing number of responses are attempts to command all the bad things become good.

Far too many declarations are not much more than self-centered, wishful thinking. “I want this, and therefore I’m going to declare it as if it were God’s will.” And then they get disheartened when the world doesn’t conform to their empty but optimistic words.

 Honestly, it’s a beautiful thing. Just like when my little granddaughter takes her first, wobbly steps. That’s a wonderful thing, too. It’s growth! But it surely isn’t maturity yet. And it’s cute when she takes a couple of steps and then plops down on her wet diaper, making that interesting sploogy sound.

 I was reflecting on our wobbly growth recently, and I was reminded that when we watch Jesus commanding sickness or demons to flee, we’re only seeing half of the story. We’re only seeing the half that happens in that moment, the part that’s visible to the gospel authors.

 But Jesus did tell us the other half of the story himself:

John 12:49 “For I have not spoken on my own authority, but the Father who sent me has himself given me a commandment—what to say and what to speak.”

 So apparently, if we’re going to (If I’m going to) be successful at commanding sickness and demons and death away, I need to speak what Father commands me to say and to speak. Declarations out of my own wishful thinking are a wasted effort. At best.

 Since the gospels never show the story of heaven opening and the Almighty shouting from heaven, it makes me wonder, “When and how did Jesus hear Father tell him what to say?”

 I think there were at least three answers to that, and neither one was a mystery.

The first is that I’m pretty sure the still small voice of the Holy Spirit gave him instructions from time to time (in John 2, compare verse 4 with verse 7, for example).

Second, verses like Mark 6:46 and Luke 6:12 tell us that he spent extended time away, just him and Father alone. I’ll bet that’s a clue. There’s a reason he encourages us to search out matters, maybe.

I think the third is more rare than we wish it was. When you’ve walked with God a long time, you begin to think like he thinks. You do that long enough and the line between “my thoughts” and “his thoughts,” between “my words” and “his words” gets thin.

 I’m thinking that it’s good that we, the saints and heirs of our Almighty Lover, are learning to hear from Heaven, and declare those words. Declaring what Father-who-sends us gives us to declare, those are going to be the more world-changing declarations.

Listen first. Then speak.